


your smile, your eyes, your madness, your lies

by orphan_account



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Angst, Breathplay, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 02:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7081015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You think everyone can be changed," Jonathan tells him. "And I agree." </p><p>Batman steps closer. </p><p>"But not by you," Scarecrow says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your smile, your eyes, your madness, your lies

 Now that they are here, Bruce hasn't had time to think about what it will be like. He's never been this hard, watching a criminal normally so composed as disheveled as he'll ever get to see him. Hair messed from Bruce's fingers running through it, bruises forming where he was gripped a little too roughly, stark red hickeys contrasting against the exposed skin of his neck.

"I want you to choke me," says Jonathan Crane.

Bruce stares at him, inches away, eyes dark. Lips parted, kiss swollen. Has Jonathan pinned to the bed, an arm either side of him.

"Come on, come on," Crane chants breathlessly, pulling him closer, fingers digging into Bruce's shoulders. 

"I can't," Bruce answers, anguished. 

"You can, and you will," the doctor hisses.

Bruce's hand slides to his neck, feeling his irregular pulse and squeezing, hard.

Crane closes his eyes, choking. He grasps Bruce's wrist weakly but makes no real attempt to stop him. The flush creeps over his skin, heartbeat increasing, lungs straining for breath.

Bruce lets go.

Jonathan gasps. His neck is red with finger print marks, chest heaving for air, eyes wide and pupils dilated.

He tips forward slightly, rests his head on Bruce's chest and doesn't comment when the other man's arms slide round his thin frame.

"I don't like to hurt you," Bruce murmurs into his hair.

Jonathan laughs, a hollow sound. Bruce is silent. He realises now that someone so advanced in psychology as Jonathan should well just be considered a mind-reader. It is utterly nonsensical to lie to him. 

"You do," the doctor says softly.

In response, Bruce hooks his fingers underneath Jonathan's chin to tilt up his head, and kisses him, slow and gentle.

"Stop," the doctor mutters.

"You don't want me to care about you?"

"I don't want you to _pretend_ that you do."

"I do care, Crane."

Jonathan sighs. His lips quirk in a half smile. And he can see it is true; Bruce Wayne, tragic billionaire by day and ruthless vigilante by night _does_  care. It is a weakness that Jonathan cannot afford.

He leans in this time, captures Wayne's mouth in a rougher, fiercer kiss while he tugs down the man's boxers with unsteady hands. 

Bruce tries to stop him when he shifts down the bed.

"Let me," he says, breath ghosting over Bruce's erection. 

So he does.

Jonathan takes him into his mouth with ease, tongue flickering over the head of his full dick and licking the underside. The Wayne heir groans deeply, a mix of expletives and the doctor's name, that leave him painfully smug and aroused as he sucks, mouth wet with precum and saliva.

"Jonathan," Bruce says hoarsely, never breaking eye contact from Jonathan, as he swallows down on the thick cock in his mouth, suppressing his gag reflex.

He lets it slip from his mouth with a pop, to ask with his ruined voice, "Fuck my mouth."  
Bruce exhales sharply, and Jonathan can actually see his cock twitch. 

Bruce moves forward till he is standing and Crane is on his knees. The doctor wraps a hand round his own aching erection, flushed and leaking, as Bruce begins to fuck his mouth.

Jonathan gags, precum and spit slipping down his chin as he jerks himself off. He lets out a sound that seems embarrassingly like a whimper when Bruce fists a hand in his hair, yanking him forward to take the full length of his cock rammed down his throat. 

"Jonathan!" Bruce cries, almost involuntarily, cock pulsing as he comes into the doctor's slick mouth. 

Jonathan chokes, coughing as he struggles to swallow Bruce's come, throat raw, knees aching, gasping for breath. He comes straight after, shuddering as he spills over his hand.

Quick enough, after he's actually processed what has just happened, Bruce sinks to his knees beside Jonathan.

The doctor can tell he doesn't know what to say and revels in his discomfort. Eventually, Bruce gets up for wiped and sets about cleaning them both, gentle and methodical.

"Thank you," Jonathan says obligatorily. 

Bruce stares at him, disbelieving.

"What?" the doctor laughs unkindly. He crosses his legs, leans his head back against the wall, exposing the livid marks on his neck.

"I want to hold you, Jonathan," Bruce says softly.

"I want to kill you, Bruce."

The billionaire goes quiet. Crane shifts anyway and lets himself be held by strong arms and pitiful compassion.

"I find you very self centered," Crane says suddenly. Bruce does not move.

"What is it about you that makes you think I can be changed? Are you truly so arrogant?"

Bruce breathes out through his nose steadily, fingers trailing absently over Jonathan's skin.

"I like to think everyone can be changed," he answers carefully.

Jonathan nods. 

He gets up, searches for the shower. Finds it and spends a good fifteen minutes under freezing cold water. 

Outside, it is very dark. There is no moon, and there are no clouds smudged across the black sky. A glance at a clock tells him it is 12:00am.

"You can sleep here."

Jonathan turns to see Bruce standing in the doorway, this rueful smile on his face like he's not expecting that. 

"I can't let you leave," he offers.

"You can trust me," Jonathan replies, the most truthful lie he's ever told. Trust him to leave. Trust him to stay unchanged.  
Jonathan likes to play with the mind. He goes to Bruce's bed, curls up next to him.

"This isn't going to last," Bruce says finally, into the dark. "I know that. I should never have let it get so far." he finishes quietly. Crane can feel the regret radiating from him in waves, and revels in it.

"Why," the doctor asks pointedly, "am I in your bed, and not in an asylum?"

Bruce falls silent. _Checkmate_.

And then a chaste kiss is pressed to his lips. Helpless, agreeing, resigned to the fact that this situation is all Bruce's fault. It won't do, but he cradles the other man's face for longer than is necessary.

He waits till the Wayne heir's breathing evens out, which takes surprisingly short amount of time seeing as he is sleeping next to someone honestly fantasising over his death.

Crane falls asleep too. He likes Bruce holding him, he feels safe and a twisted pride that he of all people managed to achieve this, with the Batman.

He leaves, quickly as he can. Dresses, picks up his glasses and his mask. Makes Bruce a coffee, because that's his weird sense of humor acting up.

Jonathan wanders for a while. Another rainy day, he slips down backstreets, knife in hand and mask shielding his eyes.

It is only so long before the Batman finds him. Bruce might like to pass it off as a chance meeting. Jonathan knows he has fretted since he woke up, searching the streets for the only evidence he has shown weakness- Doctor Crane, the physical embodiment of the shame in his compassion.

"You think everyone can be changed," Jonathan tells him. "And I agree." 

Batman steps closer. 

"But not by you," Scarecrow says.

"I fell for you," Bruce answers, tone unreadable but heart-breakingly honest.  _I fell for it; your act. I fell for your smile, your eyes, your madness, your lies._

Jonathan stands very still. He wants to give this man a very good piece of advice; that there is not _always_ some good in a person. Then his mouth twists into a smirk, because this is called _winning,_ and it's not his job to comfort the loser.

He takes off his mask, does the same to the Bat.

And he kisses Bruce Wayne very slowly and deliberately for the last time.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this up quickly, under an hour just before bed. Copied and pasted it here from the notes on my phone. Then it didn't post! And I had to do it all again and remember the little edits and additions. Hope you enjoy this piece of sin
> 
> Fun fact: "exposed skin" is mentioned. I made a slight typo and my phone tried to correct it to "exposed melon"


End file.
